


thicker than water

by dirtylittlewar



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Blood, mild depictions of violence, suzuki gun initiation and mentions of differing dynamics to LIJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlewar/pseuds/dirtylittlewar
Summary: Familiar bonds like friendship and love aren’t encouraged, it leaves too much room for mistakes. It’s a much greater risk to put weight into something that can ultimately be pin pointed as a weakness.Suzuki Gun are nothing but allies, colleagues at best, and bond over a shared interest in bringing down those who oppose them.But Desperado is beginning to second guess everything with the addition of the Boss’s new toy.





	thicker than water

They’re not like Los Ingobernables de Japón. 

Who teeter just on the edge of being genuine heels but are considered much too troublesome to be properly recognized as true faces. 

Who proudly proclaim, sometimes bragging even, about their lack of a designated leader, when pressed about hierarchal roles. Insisting instead that everyone within the group has equal input when there’s anything of importance involved. 

Suzuki had laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the sentiment because they’d sounded like a bunch of dumbasses distributing praises on an office project. 

Suzuki Gun wasn’t like Los Ingobernables. 

There was a clear hierarchical order and Suzuki was at the very top. Every bit The King as his name had proclaimed, while everyone else had been designated within their proper pecking order. That order being just bellow his heel and a step above dog shit, depending on how angry you’d made him.

Sentiments like friendship and love were for naive idiots like Los Ingobernables, who still believed that a fist bump could instill a sense of unity. And that even cheaper praises could get results if they’d been said just sweetly enough. 

Suzuki Gun gets results from being ruthless, regardless of whether or not they have to sacrifice their own in order to get a cheap win. Because winning ensures power and power helps to extend their reach beyond the ring. 

The only sentiment Suzuki Gun takes true to heart are the ties of brotherhood. 

Bonding through mutually spilled blood and the weight of grudges passed from one member to the next. It’s inevitably an integral part of initiation, which Desperado finally comes to find out after his failed partnership with Ibushi. A lesson that the dojo could have never properly prepared him for.

Suzuki watches from beneath a barely working light bulb as the rest of Suzuki Gun beat him to absolute shit. Expression vacant except for the slight grin as he watches Desperado spit out blood onto the warehouse concrete. 

Taichi drops him while the remainder of the Gun fall back as Suzuki waves them off, stopping the barrage of stinging fists. His left eye is swollen shut and it feels like he’s got a bruised rib but Desperado refuses to look weak in the face of Minoru Suzuki. Who appears absolutely menacing despite his age. 

From his position Desperado can’t quite see it but he can hear the distinct sound of a pocket knife as it unsheathes, resounding off the otherwise quiet warehouse, as Suzuki steps closer. Telling him to stand despite Desperado’s contradicting instincts shouting at him to run in the opposite direction. 

All those yakuza ties fleetingly coming to mind as he catches the surface of the knife glint under the single overhead light.

Suzuki is going to kill him. 

Gut him and leave him for dead.

Instead Suzuki turns over his hand, closing his palm over the blade before pulling away to slowly drip blood over the concrete. Confusing Desperado, until he decides to take hold of his wrist before he can properly react, slicing over the surface of his palm. 

It burns. 

And he’s sure the gash runs deeper than the matching set of Suzuki’s own but it’s nothing in comparison to the absolute beating he’d taken earlier. 

Still Desperado’s hand shakes as Suzuki clasps his hand in his own to seal off the blood pact. 

“Welcome home, Desperado.” Suzuki laughs. The sound echoing throughout the cold empty space. 

That laughter continuing to ring even as Desperado lays down at night and attempts to fall asleep. 

+

Familiar bonds like friendship and love aren’t encouraged, it leaves too much room for mistakes. It’s a much greater risk to put weight into something that can ultimately be pin pointed as a weakness.

Suzuki Gun are nothing but allies, colleagues at best, and bond over a shared interest in bringing down those who oppose them. 

But Desperado is beginning to second guess everything with the addition of the Boss’s new toy. 

Another weapon to be added to his arsenal of murderous pawns. Someone who’d previously been on the opposite end of the ring yet has taken rather quickly to integrating himself seamlessly amongst the ranks. 

Zack is a little different, however, not just because the Boss seems to respect him more on merit alone. Those catch wrestling roots certainly helping to elevate him that much higher but Zack doesn’t truly understand that things like friendship don’t exist within Suzuki Gun. 

Zack who readily offers a friendly clap to his back and the occasional playful tug to the winged tips of his mask when he’s feeling particularly cheeky. Things he hadn’t known he even wanted until they’d been given to him. 

Zack treats him like he’s worth something, not just as a means to a win, but as someone worthwhile. 

Suzuki Gun isn’t like Los Ingobernables.

They don’t believe in familial bonds outside of brotherhood or naive sentiments like love or friendship. 

But maybe Zack and him can be something different.

Maybe Zack can—-

+

Zack’s split his lip. 

Blood mingling with the sweat that runs down his face and threatens to stain the front of Desperado’s freshly changed shirt. He dabs over the broken surface with a towel, distracted by the way Zack brings attention to the wound by tonguing over the cut, and having to turn away before he gets caught staring for too long. 

Gaze firmly fixed between Zack’s splayed legs. 

He stares at a few beads of light pink staining the locker room tiles. Trying to find a pattern in what is more than likely years and years worth of mold and mildew. 

“Despy, look at me.” And Desperado does. 

Attention still caught on Zack’s lip and even softer mouth as he pulls Desperado forward by the wrist. The distance between them cut that much shorter and forcing Desperado to acknowledge what feels like years worth of tension. Like a rope pulled much too tight.

Zack tugs him close. 

Blood and sweat staining the collar of Desperado’s shirt as Zack presses his face into the crook of his neck. Kissing the little mole on the right side of his neck before dragging his mouth over Desperado’s chin, watching from beneath the arch of his brow as Desperado shakily exhales.

The rope snaps as Zack finally kisses him. 

Mouth hot and tongue pushing the taste of copper further into Desperado’s mouth. 

Zack bites him and comes away drawing blood, grinning through the red staining his lips before pushing inwards for another kiss. Smearing the mess further as they get progressively sloppier, more frantic, until it’s all Desperado can do to get Zack to quiet down as he fucks him raw against the lockers.

Then it’s Zack’s turn to return the favor once they get back to their much too cramped hotel room. Trying to keep quiet since there’s nothing but maybe three inches worth of plaster between their room and Suzuki’s. 

It’d have almost been a better idea to just fuck in the showers. But then again, that’s just barely an almost. 

“I’m inside you.”

“No shit.” Desperado laughs before moaning pitifully on a particularly harsh snap of Zack’s hips.

“Besides that,” Zack swipes his thumb over Desperado’s matching split lip. Smearing the blood before pressing it into his own mouth, just into the cut on his lower lip in example. “I’m going to be running through your veins, I’m going to be inside you, and yours will be right there with me.”

A blood pact. 

Desperado kisses him desperately after that, orgasm sticky between them when he comes for a second time in one night. Too overwhelmed from the implications to go much further and overstimulated enough to sob into Zack’s shoulder as he fucks him past his orgasm.

It’s good. 

Made even better as Zack continues to hold him afterwards and trace over the inside of Desperado’s palm. Just over the barely visible scar Suzuki had made all those years ago. 

Desperado may have spilt his blood and pledged his body to Suzuki Gun but this...this was his.

“This is ours. Just us, Despy.” Zack had whispered into his damp hair, helping to cement the fact with a languid kiss.

They weren’t like Los Ingobernables.

They weren’t like Suzuki Gun, even.

Zack and him were something different.

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was supposed to be about the contrasting dynamics between LIJ and SZG, which this went over shallowly tbh. But then I got to thinking about how there’s really been no depiction of the initiation process for SZG so I used this as an excuse to go into that. Also throwing murder besties content to give more depth and because I couldn’t get the entire concept out of my head.


End file.
